You're Never Alone
by Cat Typical
Summary: An upsetting incident sends Marinette to the hospital, leaving more scars than can be healed. Rated T for mild violence; no sin. *Temporarily on hold*
1. One

**A simple morning. . . . **

**_Marinette_**

"Marinette, watch out!"

No, likewise, the bluenette did not hear the warning cry as she crossed the road, clutching her book to her chest in a manner of chill. The wintry wind by at her cheeks and blew at her silky hair as she ambulated. Snow, white and dainty, danced through the streets and fluttering slowly down to land on—well—everything, bathing the Paris street canopy in a snowy blanket of white. Moments before, school had been canceled for the day; Marinette expected for a week or more, in fact. The snow was relentless, catching most Parisians off guard now, and she didn't mind the lack of school and study, furthermore replaced with snowy flurries. The streets and railings glistened with sharp frost, glittering under the light through the thick clouds.

Earlier that morning, however, as she had only walked to school, she had an unpleasant foreboding. Despite this warning of threat, she had simply dismissed it. No, no need for jittery behavior. If only Marinette had listened to her gut and stayed in the park upon the bench she'd sat instead of crossing back over the increasingly icy road. Marinette wouldn't be in the situation she was in now. Headlights flashing before her, almost masked from plain sight in snow. Because . . .

. . . now her vision swam with a dizzy darkness and pain corrupted her body.

**An hour later. . . . **

**_Alya_**

"Do you understand?" hissed the familiar, probing voice over the phone as the girl recorded her voicemail. "Girl, you _have _to tell me; where are you? Everyone's worried sick, girl! Call me back ASAP."

Alya, being the concerned friend she was and the wonderful reporter—who could easily gain support—paced restlessly in front of her fellow classmates, who she had called over immediately after noting her best friend's disappearance. She had asked them all if they'd seen Marinette, but nobody had a clue where she was. Growing more and more panicked, the group exchanged murmurs. A few started when Alya's door opened; a blonde boy with emerald eyes had walked in, looking horror-stricken, shocked, furious—a mix of emotions that Alya could not comprehend.

"She's—Marinette—she is _in the hospital_!" he rasped, pressing his fingers to his temples anxiously and hurrying over to them. Everyone gasped and Alya felt her breathing grow increasingly intense.

"What happened?" she asked, alarmed. Adrien shook his head as he sat down, seemingly not able to understand the thoughts running through his mind. He looked tired and scared; an emotion he rarely showed outside.

"She . . . she—I was walking down the street, looking at the snow, and I just saw her _barely_; maybe I could have saved her in time, but a car hit her—she's in the hospital, for peat's sake!" his voice was such a distressed manner that he gave a rare shout. "If I hadn't stood there, maybe I could have _saved _her!"

Nino held his hand out, "Woah, dude, calm down! When did this happen?"

"A—maybe an hour ago?" muttered Adrien, pacing now; he'd gotten from his place on the sofa and anxiously sighed.

"We have to go see her," said Alya, violently rising to her feet. Unfortunately, they would have to wait . . . for days. In the coming hour, the news that no visits would be allowed for a while would spread. Only, however, one soul would not wait.

**The evening after. . . .**

**_Adrien_**

"It was my fault, Plagg!" rasped Adrien as he paced restlessly in his room, unsure of how to let out his emotions. "I can't wait to go see her. I have to apologize."

"It wasn't your fault, kid," snorted the sable feline with determination as he reeled in front of Adrien with his arms crossed and vivid trentonomous sicogliceneral narrowed, offering true and utter support and comfort. "You tried to warn her, but it was just too late. I'm sorry, but we both know it was going to happen. You tried, however, and it is _not _your fault, do you hear me? What happened to Marinette is _not _your fault, okay?"

"But she didn't hear me. I could have saved her, maybe if I had just been there quick enough—!"

"You _tried_, Adrien, and that's what matters!" said Plagg, floating and whisking to and fro as his companion paced. Adrien was too busy with stress that he could barely understand that Plagg was offering actually comfort and concern for him.

Adrien, finally, stopped and flopped onto his bed. Mingled emotions crashed through him, battling. He didn't know what to do, until an idea popped into his mind.

"Thank you, Plagg," he said, patting the cat between the audibles with an index finger.

Seemingly sensing what he was thinking, the diminutive feline said, "Now, why don't we go pay her a visit?"

Adrien couldn't agree more, "Plagg, claws out!"

Thus, he leapt out his window, lunging across the rooftops of Paris with increased determination as he headed forward, onward to the nearest hospital. His leather suit protected him from the bitter cold. It shielded him from the snow's windy chill.

He suddenly halted, skidding to a stop and sheathing his baton as he landed across the road, upon a roof, to the hospital. Trying to look—and feel—as casual as possible, Cat Noir lightly jumped to and fro from the surrounding roofs of the hospital, worriedly searching the windows. His heart leapt with hope, though equally weighed down, as he spotted familiar dark hair through a window; he bounded over to that particular eighth-floor window and eased it open. He climbed inside cautiously, glancing around before moving his eyes to the bluenette.

"Princess?"


	2. Two

**Hey! I hope you enjoy/ed the chapter before this and the current chapter you're on. Feel free to leave a review—it's very appreciated! I'm sorry if I don't update for a period of a week or more; I tend to procrastinate, though I do love the writing. Some health issues may also come in the way of it. Anyway, as I said, please enjoy! **

"Who are you?"

Those were not the words he was expecting; actually, he hadn't expected a reply at all, but the words suddenly sank into reality and gripped his chest with such ferocity it hurt. Now he took in her appearance, and a pang of guilt washed into him. Her left wrist was bandaged and wrapped firmly into a cast, and a laceration along her forehead was stitched; despite this, crimson liquid still peeked out of the wound. Her silky hair was loosely hanging around her shoulders, and her bluebell eyes were dazed and slightly dull. There appeared to be multiple other scratches and bruises flung upon her, though they didn't seem as severe as the others. A road rash peeked out, creeping up her opposite arm from the cover of the blankets. He winced and turned away. She was not the prettiest sight, and it was as though the usual optimism had been drained from her composure, which had use to vibrate from her presence. What concerned him the most were her wounds—they looked rather gruesome. Guilt weaved into his mien, and it must have been obvious as he turned back to Marinette.

"What—" a racking cough that made Cat Noir's audibles pin back, "what's wrong? And why do you have a costume; why are you coming through a window?" her curious and mingled confused expression strengthened.

"You . . ." his throat closed with emotion slightly, and he cleared it forcefully, "you don't remember me? Marinette . . ." he gently chirped as her gaze became unfocused.

A frown dragged at her lips as she shook her head and winced, "No, I'm really sorry. And is that my name? 'Marinette'? I'm confused. . . . What happened before this? I can't seem to remember."

Cat Noir's eyes glinted somberly as she spoke. He couldn't comprehend it. The thought reeled through his head—she had amnesia. He turned his face away, pursing his lips, hating how he knew he could have stopped this—her pain.

"Y-yes," he managed, "you're name is Marinette, and mine is . . . well, call me Cat Noir. You don't remember me, but . . . I'm a friend. I wanted to come check on you. How are you feeling?"

Marinette looked almost as if she was just woken up as she looked at him, "I don't feel good," she murmured, "but I'm sure you guessed that, because I'm laying in a hospital bed," and with that, she gave a small, sad, tired chuckle. Cat Noir winced at her state. She eased her head back down with a slight gasp of pain escaping her lips as she scrunched her eyes close.

"No, I don't feel good at all."

He glanced back behind him as he slowly eased from his perch on the window before backing up again, "I'm sorry for disturbing you. I'll be off . . . rest wel—" he broke off as Marinette weakly reached her right arm out and clutched his.

"Please, don't leave. It's lonely in here. They say I can't have any visitors. I'm pretty glad you came along."

Cat Noir felt shattered. Her manner was heartbreaking, and it made him completely and utterly guilty.

"Unless you don't want to," said the bluenette, shying away, "I didn't mean to sound like you had to," and she sighed. There it was again—always polite and still willing to put other's feelings before her's.

"No," he said gently, "I'll stay."

Moments later, it was quiet again, and he kept his audibles perked to listen out for nurses. He sat on the floor, deciding he didn't care if he had a comfortable spot, not if it would keep Marinette company. Whatever he could do, he would try and do it for her, just as she did for everyone else.

He jumped for a second as she realized her soft, slowing breathing. Glancing down, he saw her peacefully sleeping, the gently rode and fall of her chest. He half-consciously brushed some lose hair from her line of sight and jerked back, shaking himself vigorously. He smiled before turning away, jumping back out the window and quietly closing it behind him.

**A few minutes later. . . .**

**_Adrien _**

"Claws in," breathed Adrien as he dropped transformation, flinging through his window in the most casual way a person flying into a window could. Plagg flew back into sight and Adrien grabbed him some camembert and tossed it to him; the sable cat gratefully gulped it down.

"She has _memory loss_, Plagg," he whispered, "and I could have stopped it."

Plagg, unfortunately, seemed stumped right now. Unable to fully reply, he put a reassuring paw upon Adrien's shoulder, "It's going to be okay, kid. I promise," he looked rather serious, "and I won't break that promise."

"That's—wow—thank you," said Adrien with a smile. He felt far better that he'd got to go see Marinette, but far worse about her state. At least she wasn't . . . dead. His phone buzzed with a text, and he picked it up.

Nino had texted them—apparently they could go and see Marinette tomorrow, but just for a little while. Now, he'd go see her as Adrien.

But they were in for a surprise. Marinette wouldn't remember them.

**This will probably be the last chapter tonight. **


	3. Three

** Kato; great question, but you'll have you find out, hehe— **

**Anyway, I am so sorry that this hasn't been updated recently. I'm just really not the most productive and, well, it has been the holidays. I tried to work on it a bit Christmas Eve, but I didn't get the right motivation and there was delicious-smelling food which, of course, is always a distraction.**

* * *

_She couldn't remember them. _

_She had amnesia.  
_

_It was plain and simple—why would they still ask questions about it? Especially when he felt he was to blame; if only he just could have _saved _her. _

_Now, however, he felt trapped in a muffled void of darkness, and one he could not escape. He was falling into an abyss of anguish. Alya's expression had been absolutely heartbreaking when she found out Marinette had amnesia, and it was only worse as the nurses dismissed them hastily, saying Miss Dupain-Cheng needed rest. _

_"Who are you?" the same voice, the same prompt questioned all of them. Adrien could still feel his violent wince. _

_Suddenly he felt that he truly was bad luck. Why did everything so wrong when he was around? _

_"Hello," she had spoken to him tiredly as his glasses one and two began to chat softly. She tipped her head, "What's your name?" _

_He flinched, though tried to hide it; it must have been visible, though, as Marinette's expression clouded with what looked like sadness before shame as she turned her head away, "I'm sorry I can't remember." _

_To this, he shook his head vigorously. No, he may not have been able to save her, and it was not Marinette's fault. If anything, it was his. He could have saved her, he truly could have, if he had just paid attention more so. . . . He looked back up and felt a pang of guilt and pity upon remembering her state yesterday. She seemed a bit better today, but he had an unusual feeling that she was masking most of the torment. He stifled a sigh, so as not to let her take the wrong idea once more. He cast his eyes to the floor. _

_"Adrien?" prompted a slightly perplexed and mingled irritated voice from his side; Alya was impatiently watching him. "Did you hear me?" _

_"Er . . . no," he admitted. _

_"She said we should probably get going before the staff get angry," offered Nino, as his companion was looking a bit anguished. The blonde nodded before glancing back at the bluenette. He followed his friends out of the room before glancing quickly at Marinette; she cast her eyes to her folded hands, looking somewhat sad. _

_"Goodbye." _

* * *

"So," said the little sable feline as he perched upon the railing of a certain hospitalized girl's rooftop balcony, eyeing the little red bug sitting a couple feet away from him, looking rather downcast. As much as he may not like to admit it, he was concerned for the bluenette's health and his companion's now-crumbling peppiness.

"So . . . ?" trailed off the little bug, her soft eyes casted down to watch the flitting-to-and-fro cars. The lights were alit in the City of Love, and Parisians ambled on the streets and sidewalks below them and across to shops, chattering pleasantly or holding shopping bags.

Plagg's audibles flattened slightly, "What's wrong, Sugarcube? Why don't you go see Marinette?" he asked carefully as she looked back up at him, the luminosity of Paris' night lights flickering in her own sad eyes.

"I don't know, Plagg. . . ," she murmured, "I guess I just don't want to see her in that state, that's all," and he sensed she knew that the wounds were pretty bad, though he had to wonder—did she know her holder had amnesia? He didn't know whether it would be good to bring up that subject or if he would regret not saying something later.

The cat tensed as a cough racked Tikki and she bent over slightly before quickly regaining her posture. He wondered: she must have been with Marinette when she took the hit of the vehicle, so she must have gotten a few bruises, but he didn't understand why she seemed to be getting increasingly ill. Kwami's weren't supposed to get sick like that. He didn't want to admit he was worried, but the anxiousness caused his eyes to glint. His companion seemed to notice, as she looked back over at him and narrowed her eyes curiously.

"What's wrong, Plagg?" she prompted. He waved it off, a signature smile painted upon his face before he regained seriousness.

"Are you sure you don't wanna see her?" he asked, edging closer to her. She rolled her eyes with a look of slight amusement and gestured him to sit beside her, as the night chill was increasing. He gingerly floated to her side as she sighed.

"I'm positive," Tikki replied with a sad smile. Plagg studied her for a moment and realized how thin she looked before he suddenly realized something.

He was so stupid! Tikki hadn't had Marinette to feed her for the past two days, and he hadn't even thought about it. No wonder she was looking kind of thin. He wondered if they could swish through the Dupain-Chengs' bakery to get some pastries but didn't want to risk it. Besides, Tikki had probably been here for a while and must've at least thought about that idea, and she as well decided it wouldn't be so smart. And what more should the Dupain-Chengs' have to burden with some of their selling goods disappearing?

"What?" her perplexed and slightly impatient voice jerked him from her thoughts.

"You haven't had anything to eat, have you?" he said, though it wasn't really something that was trying to be asked. Tikki crossed her arms and stared ahead, seemingly hoping he wouldn't think about that. She shrugged.

"Sugarcube, you gotta eat something!" said Plagg, exasperated.

Tikki shrugged and he frowned. Was she so upset she wouldn't eat anything?

He had a feeling she would probably submit to food that was warm. He tilted his head to the side before thinking of an idea. It could be risky, but he decided that it was worth it this time.

"I think I have an idea."

* * *

Adrien, meantime, sat in his room and let the glow of the city's lights caress his frowning face. He didn't think too much of his black feline companion's absence. He knew himself what it was like to be trapped, and he allowed the cat to leave on his own will. He allowed his thoughts to be troubled. He was supposed to go on patrol earlier, but he decided he really just didn't want to.

Something black flew through his open window and stopped. Adrien turned to his companion, surprised to see his slightly nervous face before he gestured inside someone else.

A little red bug swept into the room beside him with a wave. Adrien blinked a couple of times before Plagg said, "Adrien, I'd like you to once again meet Tikki. We—she was hoping that she could stay here with us for a while?"

The blonde smiled warmly at the other before looking back at Plagg, "Of course, but . . . where's Ladybug?"

"Well . . ." he glanced nervously at Tikki before speaking again, "she's, unfortunately, gone missing. But Tikki here hasn't had anything to eat in the time she's gone missing. I think we should at least give her some hospitality until Ladybug reappears."

"So even you don't know where she is?" asked Adrien, turning his gaze over to Tikki. She shook her head with a frown.

"No, I really don't," she said mournfully. Adrien nodded with another smile.

"I think we have plenty to eat, okay?" he offered, earning a delighted flick of Plagg's ears. He suddenly wondered, which something he may not have registered before—maybe the little black cat had a certain liking to Tikki? He'd really never seen him be so genuinely kind to somebody like he had been to Tikki, and he obviously wanted to keep her safe on high standards. It never occurred to him that Plagg may like the little red bug herself. Plagg's bright eyes widened with slight alarm, as though wondering what he was thinking before Adrien turned away, nodding.

"I'll get you those. . . ?"

"Oh!" said Tikki with a forced smile. "Uh . . . cookies, preferably?" she glanced down at the floor.

"Okay. In the meantime Plagg can show you around and keep you cozy," he said with a wink and turned away.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed! Do you all think I'm getting "the feels" or no? Should I make it more "feels" and "mY heArT" or what? ):) **

**Happy New Years everyone! **


End file.
